My Enemy, My Brother
by theunknownvoice
Summary: REPOST When Jason Todd comes back from the grave the current Robin, Tim Drake, and Dick Grayson, Nightwing, must join forces with the other Titans.
1. The Grave

My Enemy, My Brother

By: theunknownvoice

Disclaimer: I do not own the Teen Titans, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Dick Grayson or any other recognizable characters. They are the property of DC Comics.

A/N: I've mentioned before that I am a huge comic book junkie. This story is a cross between the cartoon and the comic. Its main focus is the three Robins, Tim Drake (the current Robin), Dick Grayson (Nightwing) and Jason Todd (Red-X). Eventually the other titans will show up but for now it's just the three Robins.

Chapter 1: The Grave

Lightening flashed illuminating the rain soaked Gotham graveyard. The dead were slumbering peacefully. Their sins had long been forgiven and forgotten. They no longer had to go through the trials of the living. Shades did not cry out for justice or vengeance. Peace reigned over the dead.

The cemetery was a well designed maze of tombstones, statues and various shrubs. Many important and not so important people lay buried in this place. Huge tombstones attested to the nobility of city founders. The double grave of Thomas and Martha Wayne loomed in the shadows. It was a huge monument attesting to the loss of a young boy's parents. At the base of a huge angel statue laid the grave of Commissioner James Gordon's late wife. On the right was the grave a young girl who had died in gang crossfire. The Bertnelli crime family was buried in another dark corner. Yet all these great people were unimportant this night.

One would have to wander off the beaten path to find this grave. It was a small stone hidden in the shadows of a cluster of trees. A reminder of the loss one family had suffered at burying a son. It was a narrow grave, a child's grave. This was the resting place was a sixteen year old boy.

It is said that the dead rest in peace. It is said that tormented souls find rest in death. How could someone who had never had a moment's peace in life find peace in death? How could such a reckless angry young man find peace in having his life cut short?

It had been three years since Jason Todd had his wings cut off. Three years since Robin had been murdered. Three years since Batman had buried one of his own.

It was a horrifying murder. The boy had been shot and then beaten to death with a crow bar. As he lay in his own blood his murder cackled with glee.

The graveyard is silent this stormy night except for the echoes of thunder and the faint sound of scraping.

The wind whipped around Nightwing as he bounded over the rooftops of the Gotham skyline. It had been a long night and his bones ached from chasing the thugs through the city.

It had been years since Dick Grayson was Robin the Boy Wonder. He was no longer a sixteen year old boy but a man of twenty-four. He had traded in the familiar Robin suit for a costume of his own design bearing the symbol of a large blue bird.

The Titans were his past. After a few years they had all gone their separate ways. Their relationships were strained. The others had reformed the Titans taking in new kids but Dick had chosen to work outside the team. They only called him if there was an emergency.

The only one who ever called was Starfire. Their once romantic relationship had frazzled into an uneasy friendship. Beast Boy had grown up into a somewhat responsible team leader. His brief stunt with acting had been a bust and the team had become his life. Cyborg rarely talked Dick when he did come to the tower. Vic didn't hold grudges but he had a team to lead. As for Raven, she avoided contacting any of them. She was a Titan but after her and Beast Boy's disastrous relationship there was little to question.

Normally, Nightwing didn't patrol Gotham. Blüdhaven was his main base of operations but tonight was different. He needed time away from Blüdhaven and time not to think about a certain female crime fighter. He had been planning to go investigate a crime in Star City. Roy had uncharacteristically begged Dick for help. Before Dick could pack his stuff Barbara had called.

He couldn't deny Babs anything even if she drove him up the wall. She asked him to follow these guys for the night. So Dick Grayson had put off his trip to Star City to stalk the streets of Gotham. These guys didn't look like elite smugglers. They had the common thug look as they passed by the Gotham graveyard.

For a brief second Nightwing's masked eyes turned away from their prey scanned the graveyard. They landed on a grave in the shadows of great trees. Dick didn't often look at the graveyard but it was somewhat a comfort to him.

"Wish me luck Jay," he whispered focusing back on the thugs.

The wind blew the icy rain soaking the Robin suit thoroughly. Tim Drake tried not yawn as he continued to walk along his area. Tim wasn't a natural born gymnast like Dick nor was he a street-fighter like Jason. Tim was a detective and noticed things that few people would pick up on.

Maybe it was his natural perception that made Tim feel uneasy. The night felt strange and the city was a little too quiet. It was as if the world had stopped blinking for a moment. The stillness and the silence had a lingering affect clouding over everything in the city. Instead of being comforted by the inactivity of the night Tim felt dread pooling the depths of his stomach. Something was really wrong.

He decided to call it a night. Nothing had happened. Bruce hadn't even contacted him to inform him of any areas that needed checking out.

He knew he shouldn't but he passed the graveyard anyway. It was a detour but to him it was a brief sign of respect. He had never met Jason Todd but he understood the burden of carrying on the name Robin.

In a strange way it was as if Jason was the brother Tim had never met, the brother Tim had been cheated out of knowing. Tim Drake, Robin, a detective that would one day rival Batman, passed the graveyard not noticing the faint sound of scraping.

The graveyard was empty of all living souls save one. It was three o'clock in the morning with the rain still pouring. There were no early morning visitors. No vagrants were sleeping on the smooth grass of the cemetery on this stormy night. No teenager was wandering the catacombs of tombs after being dared by friends. No person was even near the old graveyard.

Still scraping came deep within the graveyard proving that someone or something was there. The noise became banging from deep within the grave. In his grave Jason Todd banged on his coffin trying to get out.

To be continued….


	2. In the Coffin

Chapter 2: In the Coffin

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

"Bruce," he yelled as he banged his fists against the top of the coffin. "Father, don't leave me here."

He screamed as he continued hitting the coffin but no one answered.

He supposed to be dead. He was supposed to be on the other side of the pearly white gate enjoying the afterlife. Instead he was in hell.

He couldn't breathe. The coffin provided little air as he pushed to break through. What was he doing here?

It was then that he remembered.

_It was dark but then again Gotham was the city of shadows and phantoms. Jason had never liked the dark. Growing up the streets one knew that well lit places were necessary for survival. In a well lit place it was less likely for someone to beat the crap out of you without anyone noticing._

_He didn't know why he had agreed to come here. He wanted to make Bruce proud. Of course, Bruce was also preaching at him._

"_You are too angry Jason."_

"_Jason, stop being reckless."_

"_Jason, practice that move again."_

"_Jason, you're not doing it right."_

"_Jason, you need to pay more attention to detail."_

"_Jason, you have to learn patience or you will disrupt an investigation."_

"_Sometimes I don't understand you. I know you had to be tough to survive but you don't need to be that way now. You're safe in this house. I won't let anything happen to you."_

_His life went to hell when Bruce decided to fire him. He was too reckless for the Batman. He was too reckless to be a good Robin, to be the type of Robin perfect son Dick was._

_He went back to his old home one night. He hated that house and all the memories that existed within those walls. His father the abusive criminal and his mother who slowly faded away. He had tried to save her but he had failed just like he always did._

_One of the neighbors recognized him. She asked him to come in and handed him a box. A box full of things that had belonged to his parents. A box that contained a deadly secret._

_He rummaged through the papers like a man dehydrated man gulps down water. There it was his birth certificate but who the hell was this woman with a name beginning with a "S"? His mother's name was Catherine._

_He had never had a family. He felt like an outsider in the Wayne household. Bruce already had a son, Dick. Dick had been angry at his existence at first. Bruce had adopted Jason while Dick was just a ward. That had resulted into heated arguments between the two but eventually Dick had accepted Jason as his brother._

_Still the idea that he had a mother who might be alive drew Jason out his depression. He became obessed with finding her. He spent days searching her out. He narrowed down his possible mothers. He could tell Bruce what he was doing. Bruce would help him._

_But Bruce had fired him. Bruce didn't deserve to know his plans._

_So he did the one thing he wanted do since the beginning. He quit playing by Bruce's rules. _

People didn't think he heard the whispers. He was Bruce Wayne's latest charitity case. This poor boy homeless boy who had wandered the streets of Gotham was living a rags to riches dream. He was suddenly important to this rich people. It was such phony bull shit.

Then there came the comparisons. People had this iconic image of Bruce's first foster son. Richard Grayson had come from the circus and had easily adapted to society. He was the golden boy of Gotham society.

Jason was rash. He said what he thought and was known for running his mouth. Pluse he was only twelve years old and already a smoker. He didn't want pity or need anyone's help. He had been on his own for years. He didn't need or want the public's sympathy. Dick hadn't wanted it either. Dick's somewhat sunny personality pulled people to him while Jason's darkened view of the world pushed people away. He would never measure up to Dick.

Dick was like a brother to him. Jason both loved him and hated him. Dick had been the Robin that Bruce had always wanted. Dick had been easy to train and more complacent than Jason would ever be. He was the perfect Robin, the original Robin. All Jason could ever hope to be was second best not only as Robin but also as Bruce's son.

So Jason alone made the decision to strike out and search for his mother. It was Jason who allowed this woman to led him into a trap set by the Joker.

He didn't expect her betrayal but then again he was a punk kid. A kid that many said didn't deserve the title of Robin. After all he had killed a man at sixteen. He hadn't meant but his anger had gotten uncontrollable. Jason used more force than necessary when he fought. He didn't care if he beat the villains nearly to death be they be costumed villains or mere thugs.

Dick was calm and fluid like water changing when necessary but retaining a course. Jason was erratic like fire and would easily burn those who reached out to him.

The memories blazed over him like flames heated by his anger. He remembered it all: the feeling of the crowbar coming crashing over his body as the Joker beat his head, his legs, his arms, anywhere and everywhere. Then there was the manic laughter as he lay there bleeding to death. The bomb was set and he rushed to cover his mother. She may have betrayed him but he would save her if he could. The explosion consumed them both and he could remember nothing after that.

He pushed the top the coffin. He screamed with all his might. This body was older than one he had been buried in.

How was this all possible?

He didn't care right now. He was alive and that was all that mattered. If he didn't hurry he wouldn't even be alive anymore. His blue eyes gazed at the top of the coffin in horror. Frantically he searched his body. Was there an sign of his being Robin?

_Please say you went sentimental on me. Please Bruce for once in your life don't be a cautious bastard,_ Jason thought frantically.

He searched his body but there was nothing. No knife, no batarang, nothing that he could see that would help him out.

Panic flooded over him. He was going to die in this tight knit coffin. _He was going to die. He was going to die. He was going to die._

_No,_ his mind screamed. _I'm not dying again._

He felt his brain take over in a swift motion. Bruce had taught him to think with a calm cold rationale. It was that thinking that saved Jason's life.

He took off his belt the buckle serving as a way to break out. He used the buckle to scrap the top and when the buckle broke. He used his fingers. His fingernails tore and his hands were cut.

It was in one simple movement that he sent his hand through the top of the coffin. Jason Todd was alive. He crawled out of the coffin and collapsed less than a mile away from the cemetery.

To be continued...


	3. Into the Shadows

Chapter 3: Into the Shadows

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

"Until the day of his death, no man can be sure of his courage."—Jean Anouilh

When he came too he found himself in a hospital bed. He could see the cops outside the doorway. They were waiting for him to give them some answers.

Jason didn't have any answers. He didn't know anything more than his past. He just opened up the hospital window and crawled out.

There are some things in life that you never forget. For Jason Todd robbing a store was one of those things. It was easy to break through the back window and steal. He bypassed all of the alarms as if they just toys.

Jason hadn't been born a thief. It was something he had been forced to learn when his life got rough. Childhood was supposed to be a time of innocence. Parents were supposed to care for their children. Jason Todd had been alone for two years before Bruce Wayne took him in.

He dressed quickly putting on the white t-shirt, black leather jacket, and black jeans. He left his hospital gown in a trash can less than a mile from the place he cased. Jason wasn't a fool. The cops had most likely run his fingerprints and found no matches. He would need to be careful before they started searching for him.

The world was the same as it had always been. The streets of the Gotham were unchanging if anything. The city was the same as if he had never died. He didn't know what he had expected.

Perhaps he had expected something to change. Maybe then his death might have meant something. No change for better or worse just meant that he was insignificant. Another unimportant person who's existence was no more important than a speck of dust.

Jason has always been a realist. Life was a game that was meant to be manipulated. He had lost the game and had earned death at age sixteen. His life had been worthless and nothing had come from his death. Maybe he was back to make a difference?

The shock of being dead hadn't settled over him. Waking up in the hospital was bad enough. His wounds had healed but he had been through shock. He looked down at his bandaged hands, nothing made sense anymore.

How could Bruce just let him die? Did anyone try to save him? Had he meant anything?

He didn't question his return from the grave. It wasn't that he didn't care. It was just for Jason Todd being alive was more important right now.

It was weird to die a sixteen year and wake-up in a nineteen year old body. He had grown taller, a lot taller than he would've thought. He had even filled out a bit which strange in and of itself.

He was slightly freaked out and he wanted a cigarette to make his head stop spinning. He felt like someone had hit him with a crowbar very recently. His head and his body ached. Why the hell couldn't he just stay dead?

He stalked the familiar streets of Gotham. Even after three years everything was so familiar. He could probably navigate these streets and rooftops blindfolded.

There were still dark alleyways where children slept. Jason grimaced as he walked by a boy sleeping next to the dumpster trying to keep warm. This was how Jason had been at that same age. He never imagined his luck to be caught trying to steal the tires off of the batmobile.

It had been the best screw-up of his life. If he had gotten away with stealing the tires he would've been a legend. Instead he had been caught and then he had been gagged and tied up by Bruce who then locked him in a shed. He still remembered the look on old Alfred's face.

"_And do you intend to keep him?"_

He smirked. He had become Robin not to long after that. He doubted that Bruce would replace him. Bruce had loved Jason like a son it was doubtful that anyone would ever take that spot.

It was then that he first saw _him._ His blood boiled as he continued to watch. A boy no older than Jason had been was fighting off criminals. The black mask firmly on his face and the robin suit tailored to fit him.

"_Why does this one get to have pants instead of the damn shorts and spandex?" _Jason though bitterly.

Both he and Dick had been cursed with the tight green shorts and the tights. This kid actually had pants for a uniform. Then again Jason had escaped the horrid pixie boots.

This replacement Robin ducked the blow his opponent sent at him.

The kid, Jason grudgingly admitted, was keeping his opponents at bay. It was just a routine scuffle with a few thugs nothing too extraordinary. It was all too familiar to Jason who had been in these types of fights before. _Let's see what the kid does._

Tim's blood pounded hard as he fought. Nothing about this job was ever the same. Every fight was different. Of course these thugs had been shot up on coke but that didn't mean anything. They were slower but the drug hadn't hit the low point yet.

Tim swerved as leader of the group lunged at him.

Out of the shadows came a streak of blue and black. Dick Grayson had been tailing these thugs all night. Babs was of the opinion that they were part of a smuggling operation. Dick hadn't seen any evidence proving her theory but he wasn't ready to dismiss it yet.

He sent the man lunging at Tim sprawling backwards with a swift kick. It took the pair no time to tie up the group.

"I didn't need help," Tim said calmly. "I was doing fine."

Jason smirked bitterly in the shadows. How often had he berated Dick for stepping in for him? He may not like the kid but at least the pretender stood up for himself.

"I know. I just thought I could help besides I've been tailing them all night," Dick replied.

The pair began to chat about everything. It was familiar activity, a conversation between two brothers.

Jason felt his jealousy rise as he watched the two of them. It was as if he had been replaced. The kid was his replacement, another bird for the bat to have at his side, another brother for Nightwing to bond with. It was like he was nonexistent.

It was bad enough the kid was the new Robin. He could deal with their being a new Robin. He could live with the kid taking the uniform.

Yet as he watched the two of them realized that there was a new son in the family. A son who wasn't like Jason the screw up. A son who was the good son. The son that Bruce had always wanted had arrived. This was the kid who should have been Robin not Jason.

Bitterness and rage coursed through him. He had been replaced not just as Robin but as a member of the family. Who the hell was this kid?

"You better go report to Bruce. He's probably freaking out," Dick said.

"I guess I'll see you around," the kid replied.

"I'm planning on leaving the area for a while but I'll give you a call. Maybe we can hang out. Just be careful while I'm gone Tim."

"Yeah, you too Dick."

Jason watched them disappear into the night from his spot in the shadows. His anger was running through is veins in heated patches. Replacement. Replacement. Forgotten. Unimportant.

He would make them remember him even if he had to spill blood. He would them regret not remembering. Maybe just maybe, they hadn't forgotten him but he had to make sure.

"Just wait until we meet Timmy. I promise it will be a blast," Jason said as he disappeared further into the shadows.

To be continued….


	4. Over Rooftops and Through Graveyards

Chapter 4: Over Rooftops and Through Graveyards

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Please review.

Replacement: noun. a person or thing that replaces another.

Sometimes the reality of his life hit him like a ton of bricks. Tim Drake was the replacement. He hadn't been picked to be Robin. Instead Tim had realized that Batman needed a Robin. Jason Todd was dead but Tim Drake was alive. He was the replacement for Jason Todd.

He never felt that he would equal Jason or Dick. He had never felt that he even deserved to be Robin. He was just the stand-in for Jason but eventually being Robin had come to be second nature. Eventually the identity of Robin was more real than the identity of Tim Drake and he learned what all vigilantes learn, the job becomes your existence.

Tim had become Robin. He had earned his place in the family. He was the youngest son, the youngest brother. He was the one that worked the hardest and trained more than his predecessors. He didn't have half the gymnastics ability that Dick did nor was he a good street fighter like Jason. Tim was a detective. He used his brain and saw few things that others did.

The night had gotten progressively worse for Tim. It had been too quiet and quiet nights in Gotham City were always trouble. He had been his way back to the cave when he had encountered a drug bust, an armed robbery, and the thugs in the alleyway.

He had been grateful to see Dick but now he was worried. Dick had been having a hard time in Bludhaven. Dick didn't often leave Gotham's decaying sister city but lately there had been some stark changes. Dick's little side trip was odd. Something or more like someone had been plaguing Dick.

Tim had his money on who it was. Tim wasn't blind or stupid. He had seen how Dick was avoiding the Birds of Prey. It was so obvious that if it hadn't been Dick, Tim would've laughed at the lovesick person he was seeing. Dick was like a scorned puppy-dog waiting for its owner to pay attention and knowing who Dick was interested in it wouldn't be long before Nightwing found himself in serious trouble.

Tim wandered through the dark rooftops of Gotham. As he bounded over building and ran through dark alleyways his thoughts lingered on patrol.

Tim had wanted to be Robin. He had chosen Batman not the other way around. He had seen the anger and the loneliness that had overshadowed Batman. It was a father mourning the death of his son. It was pain, raw and visible to everyone.

Following Jason's death Bruce had become more violent. A tempest of anger and pain flooded over and the criminals suffered Batman's wrath. Nothing could stop Bruce on his collision course with death. Nothing could stop him save for one innocent person.

The minute Tim became Robin; Bruce began to move past Jason's death. Bruce never healed from the loss but at least he wasn't in the same black pit he had been in before. Tim had become another son and though Tim would never fill Jason's place he had helped Bruce move past his demons.

Yet Tim dwelt within the shadow of Jason. It was a constant reminder. It was the reminder that he was the replacement Robin that drove Tim to be better than his predecessors. Jason had been reckless and Tim stood in his shadow with the weight of the past baring down on him. When people saw Robin they didn't see Tim. They saw Jason or Dick but never ever Tim. He was just the new kid. The kid who had taken on the mantle after the second Robin died.

"_Tim, what are you doing? That move must be executed precisely."_

"_Tim, would you be more careful? You're not leaving the gym until you can perform that sequence perfectly."_

"_Tim, pay more attention to how you move. You're a good detective but your fighting stance needs some work."_

"_If you are ever that reckless again I'll remove you from being Robin. You do what I tell you to do. When I order you to check in you check in."_

Tim didn't hate Jason. How could he when he had never met the guy? He just hated that Jason had died. If Jason had lived Tim would've had the chance to ask the questions.

Maybe it was the fact that he had never met Jason that made Tim want to live up to being a good Robin. Jason was his brother just as Dick was. They weren't brothers by blood but rather brothers by the cape and cowl. They were a special select group that had born the mantle of Robin, Batman's sidekick and son.

That alone was the reason why time had this nightly ritual. He would come at least once a night to visit the solitary grave. Bruce didn't know Tim did this neither did Dick. It was Tim's secret.

He vaulted over the iron gate. The rain poured over the graveyard in a faint drizzle. The smell of soil mixed with blooded pervaded Tim's senses. It was an overwhelming mixture with the consistency of thick paste.

He moved quickly. Someone was hurt in the graveyard. He followed the muddied footsteps tracing them back to the solitary tree. Tim's eyes widened at the sight.

Jason's coffin lay spread out. Fragments of wood and blood were on the ground. He looked down into the coffin expecting to see a decaying corpse. The grave was empty.

To be continued….


	5. Father and Sons

Chapter 5: Father and Sons

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

_"The father who does not teach his son his duties is equally guilty as the son who neglects them." –Confucius_

They stood there these men who dwelt in the darkness of the city. It had been the youngest of their family who had raised the alarm.

The oldest son had been on his way back to his home in the city across the bay. A city that's hero had been in Gotham. Bruce couldn't help but remember how this son came to him. Dick Grayson had been a circus boy of nine orphaned and alone who had been nervous of the charity he was offered. Robin had been created for Dick. Dick had been the first of Batman's sidekicks. He had forged the legend and created the level that each Robin was measured by. He was the Boy Wonder. All Boy Wonders have to grow up and the day had come when Dick became Nightwing.

He had left behind the role of sick kick and become his own hero. Bruce knew he had been hard on Dick. He had been harder on Dick than the others because Dick was his first son. Bruce hadn't wanted to be a father. He just fell into the role without even realizing it. He was proud of the man Dick had become. The boy had grown into a man who knew his own mind and worked hard to make himself a better person. No man could be prouder of such a son.

Bruce's eyes turned to the youngest of his sons. Tim had had a family. He wasn't an orphan or someone needing saving. Tim had come to save Bruce from the darkness that was beginning to consume him. This was the boy who had figured out the greatest mystery, the identity of Batman, when all others had always failed.

Tim had lost so much. His family was gone. His girlfriend was dead. His partner, the new Batgirl, was AWOL. Most people would give up but not Tim. Bruce would never admit it but he was glad that Tim had become his son. He was glad that Tim had found out his secret.

Bruce's deep eyes focused on the empty grave in front of him. This was the middle son, the son who he couldn't save. Bruce had taken in Jason to save him from meeting an early death. Jason had always been angry. He was reckless blowing up investigations. He even caused the death of one of the criminals they were tracking. Jason was no saint.

Jason had wanted to be the best. He felt he needed to earn his place long after he had been accepted in the family. Bruce couldn't help him. Jason had no good friends. He had no loving family to remember. Wayne manor had been a lonely place for the boy. But Bruce was proud of Jason. Jason never gave up. He never quit even when all odds were against him. He was like a lion holding onto a piece of meat. The image of that battered body haunted Bruce's wakening hours. Why hadn't he been able to save Jason? Why hadn't he been able to save his son?

They didn't have time for remembrance or guilt. Someone had taken the body. Someone had taken Jason's body and Bruce was determined to find out who.

He had many enemies as Bruce Wayne but they weren't as powerful as the enemies he had made while wearing the cape and cowl of Batman. What criminal would commit such a sick joke?

"You still haven't told us what you were doing here," Bruce said his eyes hardening as he looked at Tim.

"I come here every now and then. I tell him how my patrol was," Tim replied.

Silence surrounded them.

Dick Grayson felt his heart clench. He had known Jason but he rarely came to the graveyard. Jason had been his brother but he didn't dare come to the grave. He couldn't help Jason. He couldn't make Jason less reckless. He had reached out to Jason but Jason had been so wary. Why then would he welcome Dick mourning for him?

Bruce never came to the graveyard. He had his own monument for Jason in the Batcave. The Robin suit lay behind the glass casing. It was Bruce's reminder of his own personal failure to protect the boy.

"We have a criminal to find," Batman said leading the other vigilantes out of the graveyard.

Tim's eyes looked once again at the casket. It looked as if someone had punched their fist through it.

To be continued…


	6. The Darkness within the Cave

Chapter 6: The Darkness within the Cave

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

It was stupid. He had crawled through the old opening. His clothes didn't fit him and smelt horrible.

_You wake in a grave and you think the night's going to magically get better?_

He didn't know why he had come back here. He can feel his bitterness begin to engulf him.

Was he so easily forgotten by his so-called family? Had it been so easy to replace him? Had it been easy to consign him to the darkness of the shadows?

His entire life he had been unwanted, abandoned and alone. Bruce had given him a home. A home that had been the first place he had known.

They weren't here. He couldn't help but be disappointed. The cave was empty and he didn't doubt that Bruce was on patrol. Not much had changed since he had been killed.

His blue eyes landed upon the case in the corner. The uniform so familiar and so much his stood as a monument. The plague before it read his name. So he wasn't forgotten jut replaced. That made him feel a little better.

_The kid doesn't get to wear the shorts and spandex. Talk about freezing your ass off._

Those little green shorts had been the bane of his existence. At least he wasn't forced to wear the pixie boots like Dick.

He eyes narrowed in on their target: the computer. He would deal with his suit later. He had to know.

Bruce thought he was so clever when it came to the password to the computer. Jason, however, knew Bruce better than most people. He typed in the old password hoping to gain access.

"Access denied," the computer said.

Why would Bruce change the password? It had always been Leslie for Bruce's good friend Dr. Thompson. No one knew of Batman's connection to the good doctor.

Jason cursed as he began to try different combinations.

Finally the idea struck him. No, Bruce wasn't that sentimental. He wouldn't change the password to something like that.

He wouldn't do it for sentimental reasons but as a reminder of his guilt. That sounded right. Bruce always did have the biggest guilt database known to man. Jason typed his name in the computer access box.

"Access granted," the computer said.

His fingers flew over the keyboard. He had to know what had happened. Bruce alphabetized and categorized everything so finding the file was easy. He was tempted to read the files about himself, Dick and this new Robin. Doubtlessly Tim was another orphan rescued by Bruce.

His eyes ran greedily over the file.

The Joker-location unknown

Jason's anger bubbled as he logged off the computer.

"Why wasn't I good enough? If it had been Dick you would've murdered the son of a bitch but because it was me it didn't matter? You let that bastard live! You kept my costume and used my name as your password but you let that bastard live!" he screamed sending his fist through the glass case.

He grabbed the suit his bloody hands staining it marking the case. He knew he had a few precious moments before Alfred came to investigate.

His eyes flitted throughout the dark cave searching for the real reason he had come. There in the corner in another glass case he saw his prize.

It had been Dick's greatest failure. The thief that had stolen the damn thing had long since been captured.

It was the perfect plan. Who would guess that Jason Todd was Red-X?

To be continued….


End file.
